


Party Your Way to Fitness!

by IshaRen



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aerobics!Hux, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo is an asshole, F/M, Fitness classes, Hux Has No Chill, Rey is a fitness instructor, Reyux, Spin, zumba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IshaRen/pseuds/IshaRen
Summary: Crossfit instructor Hux loses a bet to rival Ben, the annoying bodybuilder gym owner. Unfortunately, the forfeit involves a yellow lycra bodysuit, the ugliest fanny pack ever, and the zumba class from hell.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just to warn you, I know nothing whatsoever about Crossfit and also couldn't be bothered to research it. So if the references to it don't make sense...well. Yeah. I do regularly do zumba though, and this fic is somewhat based on my experiences. :)

“No. No. Absolutely not.” 

“Ah, so you’d rather have my name at the top of your leaderboard for the rest of the year?” Ben’s grin is wide and wicked, his crooked teeth sharp.

Hux glares at the skintight yellow-striped lycra bodysuit Ben just handed him. “I am _not_ wearing this in public.”

“Don’t worry, I got a couple things to make it more...modest.” Ben digs into the shopping bag and pulls out yellow legwarmers, a neon pink baseball cap, and of all things, a matching hellishly neon-pink fanny pack. 

“Modest?” hisses Hux.

“Yeah, the fanny pack will cover...things.” 

“Absolutely not.”

Ben shrugs. “Sorry, it’s all part of the outfit. Maybe you’ll be more careful next time when you make a bet.”

Hux growls, and grabs everything from him. The bodysuit stretches between them as Ben hangs on, only to let go at the last second, forcing Hux to take a step backward to balance himself. He _hates_ Ben. How can someone who only ever lifts weights and runs on a treadmill have beat his time on a Crossfit circuit? If he hadn’t seen it and timed it himself, he wouldn’t believe it.

Having Ben’s name above his on the public leaderboard is simply unacceptable. Someone who thinks Crossfit is for fanatics and obsessives could not be better at it than the people who worked hard to improve themselves every day. Hux won’t allow it. 

So, he trudges off to the changing room like a man facing an aerobics-based execution. His hatred for Ben stretches as much as the hideous yellow bodysuit that clings to every bony protrusion of his lean body. The legwarmers sag around his skinny calves, giving him the look of a stork with elephant ankles. 

At least the hat hides his distinctive hair and some of his face—it’s probably the best part of the outfit, and that’s saying something. The fanny pack is _awful_ , made of some scratchy nylon material with a ton of little pockets and dangly zippers. Hux doesn’t have any hips, so he has to tighten the belt to keep the damn thing from sagging ridiculously. Despite his trim waist, this manages to create a small roll of flesh on his sides. The belt sizing is also extremely generous, so the extra-long strap hangs down, giving him a sort of pink tail dangling over his ass. 

He gapes in horror when he finally braves the mirror. Yellow is _not_ his colour. His milk-pale skin has taken on a sickly sallowness, not helped at all by the loud pink hat. The tight lycra outlines his every muscle, while also emphasizing how small they are. The low rounded neckline seems designed to show off the flat bones of his narrow chest and the small pebbled shapes of his nipples peeking through the thin fabric. He looks like an angry lemon popsicle and he has never felt more self-conscious.

To his relief, no one is in the main area of the changing room when he slinks out of the private curtained cubicle. He scurries across the gym to the office. Ben is leaning back in his chair, talking to a woman facing away from the door. His face lights up as Hux slides into the small room.

“Hux, I was just telling Rey here that you’ll be in her classes this morning.” Ben gestures at the woman, who turns to look at Hux. To her credit, she controls her reaction to a perceptible widening of her eyes as she takes him in. Her mouth only hangs open slightly. “Hux is our physio and he teaches Crossfit.” “Crossfit,” she echoes, appearing stunned. After several tense seconds, she recovers herself and offers her hand and a friendly smile.

Hux has to resist the urge to wipe his sweaty palm on the yellow monstrosity he’s wearing before he touches her. “Hux,” he says, and their eyes meet. Her smile widens and he’s taking in warm hazel eyes all crinkled up at the corners, soft pink lips and flashing white teeth. Her nose wrinkles a little from the strength of her grin. Shit. She even has a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She is adorable and he is a banana with rhinoceros feet. Wonderful.

“I’m Rey. I’m covering Poe’s classes today—spin, and then zumba.” Her handshake is firm and Hux winces at the slide of his damp palm against her dry one.

He tears his eyes from her to look accusingly at Ben, who is watching them with delighted fascination, practically shaking with suppressed laughter. “Poe away today, is he?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that,” Ben says airily. “Been on the calendar for a while, anyway.”

This was the other half of the forfeit. Hux had to do two of the classes he spent the most time sneering at. Usually Poe taught them both, which hadn’t seemed _so_ bad. Poe would have laughed at the outfit, but he was a good guy. He wouldn’t go out of his way to humiliate anyone. Unlike Ben.

Rey checks her phone. “Oh, I better go get set up! See you in a minute, Hux.” She smiles at him again, and heads off toward the studio.

“You are evil. Pure evil,” Hux spits at Ben, as soon as she’s out of hearing range.

Ben gives into the laughter he’s been holding in, throwing his head against the back of the chair and guffawing. “Cute, isn’t she?” he asks, when he calms down again.

No point in denying it. Ben knew him too well. “Thanks for the Mr. Friendzone outfit.”

Ben snickers. “Hey, girls like pink. Besides, now she’s seen what you have to offer.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows deliberately.

Hux can feel himself going red. “I hate you.”

  


* * *

  


The first class is spin, which he despises for the boredom of it. Nothing like pretending to be cycling up and down sun-drenched mountains while in reality being trapped in a sweaty room and assaulted by terrible dance music on a grey Tuesday morning in February. Instead of rolling valleys and dramatic peaks, the view outside to the parking lot is of plowed up piles of filthy snow and salt-stained SUVs. 

Rey has stripped off the hoodie she was wearing to reveal a bright pink sports bra with a loose pale yellow tank top over it. Her leggings are a darker shade of pink. Well. Isn’t that sweet. They sort of match.

He sets his bike up at the back, hoping she won’t be able to see him through the forest of heaving bodies. The class is predictable—pounding music and lots of shouts of encouragement from Rey. 

The room is awfully wide and empty once the bikes are pushed to the back and the other spinners have exited. Morning classes are filled with stay-at-home moms and young retirees, and the new arrivals for the zumba class are all women, chatting loudly together about their kids. One or two notice him trying to disappear in the back corner by the mats, as much as anyone who is dressed in neon can ever become invisible. But most of the women are too intent on their conversations and sorting out their purses and phones to bother about him.

Rey is fiddling with her phone by the stereo system, but she greets everyone who comes in. When it looks like the last few have trickled in, she introduces herself enthusiastically and asks if anyone is new to zumba. Hux stares fixedly at the floor and wishes he were dead. 

“Hux,” she calls, cutting across any lingering conversation. All eyes turn to him. “It’s your first time, right?”

Oh God. Oh _God_. How can someone still live when they are wishing so hard not to? “Yes,” he croaks at the floor. A small pool of sweat from one of the spinners looks back at him. No doubt he’ll accidentally slip on it later and fall over in a tumble of yellow limbs and pink zippers. A skinned knee or elbow would definitely complete his outfit.

“Great!” Rey says. She appears to be someone who finds everything great or _awesome._ Not his type at all. “Just try to follow along with the foot movement and don’t worry so much about the arms. As long as you’re moving and having fun, that’s the main thing!”

She grabs her towel and wipes off her face, then to his shock, she pulls off the yellow tank top so she’s only wearing the pink sports bra. “I’m so hot, guys! We just had an amazing spin class.” She grins.

This...this is going to be a problem. Her tan skin glows with a fine sheen of sweat that only highlights the definition of her abs and lower back. He scolds himself—she’s not his type and anyway, he sees fit people all the time. Touches them too, for his physio work. He is immune to smiley, over-enthusiastic brunettes with smooth, soft skin and kissable pink lips and… Shit.

Luckily, before his fanny pack can be called into service for...concealing things...she starts up the music, and he is immediately, hopelessly lost. He’d always assumed zumba was for the very unfit and people who liked Pitbull. How wrong he was. Arms are swinging this way and that, feet are facing one way, then another. And the amount of hip swiveling is quite startling. He gamely tries it, a bit hampered by the tightly fastened fanny pack that is determined to simultaneously dig into his belly, while wildly swinging every zipper in a highly distracting windmilling action.

The songs blend into each other for the first ten minutes and he has to use all his concentration to not fall over his own feet. By the time Rey calls for a water break, he’s sweating and the lycra is plastered to him. His ankles, under the thick leg warmers, are boiling hot. To hell with Ben; he yanks them off and throws them to the side. Then, he grabs his water bottle and takes a big gulp. A rather heavy-set woman is checking her phone beside where his water bottle was sitting. Despite the fact that she’s wearing long sleeves and jogging pants, she looks as cool as a cucumber. She smiles at him encouragingly. “You’ll get the moves, don’t worry,” she tells him.

Perfect. Now he’s being given pep talks by complete strangers. He smiles back thinly. “Thanks.”

“Awesome warm-up guys!” Rey says. “Now let’s get those heart rates up!”

That was the warm up? He’s not going to make it. This is impossible. They’ll find him later in the corner, a yellow puddle with pink frosting, a sad victim of up-tempo Latin beats and humiliation.

It feels like the speed of the movements has actually doubled. Rey’s arms and legs seem to flash under the bright studio lights and his mind slows to molasses, just watching the grace and efficiency of her movements. Then he stumbles over his own toes and slips on the patch of floor-sweat. He may be adding to it, sweat soaking the lycra and pooling at his lower back to drip down between his ass cheeks.

The next song introduces him to the concept of twerking. The singer implores them to _drop, drop, drop, drop it low_ more often than Hux thinks is strictly required. He’s never undertaken an exercise like it. He sticks his ass out and tries to _work it._ The only thing he’s working is the fanny pack as it slaps him repeatedly on his belly. “Shake those booties,” Rey shouts. 

Several songs later, the purpose of Pitbull’s existence becomes clear. As yet another track begins with “Mr. Worldwide,” Hux can only think that Pitbull might have invented zumba, or if he hadn’t, he should surely invest in it. Unfortunately, Pitbull’s exhortations to _shake that thang_ leave Hux little time to ponder if Zumba® is a publicly traded corporation. Instead, he’s learning what a “grapevine” is, and trying to understand the mysteries of syncopated rhythms.

By the time the class is nearly over, he’s a mess. At the water break, the heavyset woman is a little flushed. She smiles at him sympathetically, but doesn’t offer any further encouragement. Even hidden in the corner as he is, his flailing is obvious to everyone in the mirrors that reflect the entire room. No doubt the woman is wondering why he hasn’t retreated from the class that is so clearly beyond him, fanny pack strap tail between his legs.

“Ok everyone, one last fast one, then we’ll cool down!” 

He can do this. The end is in sight. She puts the last song on extra loud, to a few ragged cheers from the group. _Turn down for what?_ is the question the song poses. The answer seems to be: no turning down will be happening whatsoever.

Halfway through the song, as Hux has his legs spread wide and ass out, circling his fists in the air in an approximation of in time with the music, he catches a glimpse of Ben in the mirror, watching them through the glass wall at the back of the studio.

Ben is dancing along, shaking his hips and beckoning to Rey with his stupid cheeky grin that every woman he meets seems to be weak for. His hip action is remarkably loose and supple. Hux _hates_ him.

Rey gestures for Ben to come in, and he lopes across the floor to stand right at her back, letting her grind on him as if they were at some club. Ben has his large hands on her waist and she’s looking up over her shoulder at him, laughing. The class responds with whoops and hollers to this completely inappropriate sight and Hux spends several moments searching for a word stronger than _hate_ to express his current feeling. Loathe. No, that isn’t it. Abhor. Not quite there. Despise. Yes, that’s it. He _despises_ Ben, with his hands on the first woman Hux has expressed an interest in for six months or more. 

Ben leans down to whisper something in Rey’s ear, and she laughs and slaps his arm. He steps back and turns his gaze to where Hux is scowling at him. He smiles, slow and wide. _Despises._

Finally, the turning down can proceed as Rey puts on a slower cool down track. Ben has disappeared off to the weight area where all his buddies pose and preen in between grunting through their sets.

When the music finishes, Hux grabs his water bottle, not making eye contact with anyone, and heads to the door. He’s almost escaped, when Rey calls his name. He contemplates pretending he didn’t hear, but the room is silent except for a few conversations between the women as they gather up their things, and that would be unforgivably rude.

He turns. In the mirror, he can see his face is bright red and dripping with sweat. The yellow lycra is dark on his chest, and his nipples are stiff at attention. 

“What’s going on?” she asks him, walking up to stand close beside him. He’s excruciatingly aware of the skintight bodysuit and the sweat coating him.

“What do you mean?” He’s not supposed to tell anyone about the bet.

She huffs. “I know Ben, we grew up together. He could barely contain his chortling when you appeared. I thought at first you were...um…”

“Enthusiastic about Latin dance?”

“Right! But you were obviously hating every second of this, and you look so uncomfortable in—” She gestures vaguely at his getup.

Well, fuck Ben anyway. He leans forward conspiratorially. “I lost a bet.”

Her eyes widen and she claps a hand over her mouth. “Ben is such an asshole.”

“Yeah.” 

She shifts and with a sinking feeling in his chest, he realizes the conversation is over. “Do you like lunch?” he asks quickly. The question replays in his head and he examines it slowly, poring over it like an ancient scroll. Wait. No. What?

Her head tilts. “I do enjoy lunch,” she says cautiously. “Pretty much every day.”

“Do you like lunch with _me_?” he tries to correct himself. Fuck. No. That makes even less sense. His whole body is bright red, a hot dog stuffed into bright yellow cornbread.

She laughs, an endearingly adorable giggle. “I don’t know, shall we find out?”

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta [Rachel_Greatest](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rachel_greatest/pseuds/rachel_greatest) \- check out her page for more Reyux!
> 
> Comments and kudos are very welcome :) I'm [@isharan](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/isharan) on Tumblr - come talk to me!


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